"Shall I have the patrols close in on her rocket?"
"No." The Emperor pondered a moment. "Have a telescreen set up in here so we can speak directly."
A frenzied bustle ensued as Wilkins directed a platoon of awed techs through the process of bringing the mountain to Mohammed. In the end, the Jursan ship was in communication. The aide called for Daphne Foster, then stood aside.
Vyrtl was glad, when she appeared, that Wilkins had placed a deep armchair before the screen for him.
Was this the woman with whom he had—?
he was still tall, but her white hair gave her the look of the seventy years with which Wilkins had credited her. Deep laugh-wrinkles bracketed the mouth, with more at the corners of the still bright eyes. The delicate bones of her face were more prominent.
There was nevertheless a clear resemblance to the Daphne Foster he had received earlier.
She looks ... she looked, thought Vyrtl, as this woman might have looked when she was young ... or might have wanted to look.